


From Stable to Stumble

by TheThirdTemptationOfParis



Series: The Who Do You Love Series [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, John Loves Sherlock, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Reichenbach, Sherlock Loves John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 08:51:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8395279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheThirdTemptationOfParis/pseuds/TheThirdTemptationOfParis
Summary: All John wants is for Sherlock to live for him.





	

John woke up, frantic. He’d seen the fall behind eyelids again. He’d seen it a million times, and it never got any less painful. His hand darted across the bed, searching for the body he was sure would be there, because that night couldn’t have been a dream. His hands grasped empty air. John was out of bed before he had his wits about him.

“Sherlock!?” he shouted into the deadly quiet flat. Their bedroom was empty, the bathroom light was off. He sprinted out of the room and down the short hallway to the sitting room. Sherlock was in John’s chair, head craned slightly towards the commotion. 

He stood cautiously, looking at the floor, “I’m sorry, John. I woke up and I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful. I’m sorry, my love, I’m sorry.” John stepped forward, closed the space, and wrapped Sherlock in his arms, running his hands over his back and shoulders, finally landing to cup the nape of his neck, pulling him down into a bruising kiss.

“Don’t you dare scare me like that again.” John replied, kissing and kissing and kissing, “Don’t you dare, don’t you dare, don’t you dare.” The strength left his legs and he clung tight to Sherlock, who held him up by the waist. “I spent two years grasping in the dark for you, and I always found you gone. I don’t want that now. Not ever again. I can’t… I won’t…” John’s speech broke into sobs.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to worry you. You had so much time to worry about me. I don’t want to burden you with that anymore.”

John shook his head and pulled back, “No, do not start with that. Worrying about you is ingrained in my very veins. There is no possible way to get me to stop worrying about you. I can’t. I won’t. I love you too much to stop. I just thought I had dreamt you up again. Hell, I always thought I dreamt you up because there’s no possible way someone like you could exist. Just, come back to bed, love. Please?”

John reached out a hand, which Sherlock took, letting himself be led back to the bedroom. When the door was closed behind them, John wrapped himself around his lover, his partner in all things, and clung to him. His shoulders were shaking with sobs again and he couldn't force all the words stuck in his throat out. Sherlock maneuvered them carefully to the safe haven of their shared bed and carded his fingers through soft, now gray, locks. 

“Sh, my love. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I knew when I came back I couldn't expect you to still be here. I couldn't expect you to still love me. I'm ever grateful I got back to you before you moved on because I wouldn't have been able to live without you in my arms. You are the air I breathe, John Watson, and my lungs would collapse without you.” Sherlock’s lips were on John's temple, John's brow, ghosting and light, but present. John folded into him. 

Sherlock tucked his mouth in behind John's ear and murmured, “My love. My one and only. My heart. My universe. My soul. I'm so, so sorry. I love you. I love you so much.”

John clung tightly to Sherlock, just listening. Sherlock fell silent a few minutes later and John could tell his mind was whirling. “What is it, love?”

“You know I did it all for you, right?”

John tensed, “What do you mean?”

“The last two years. Everything I did, everything I went through while I was away, was for you. Moriarty had snipers at the ready to kill you, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade. Just you would've pushed me over. I would've jumped to my death if it meant keeping you safe. But I don't know what I would've done if you weren't here when I came back.”

John pulled back and cradled the back of Sherlock’s skull, making his eyes stay locked with his own, “Sherlock, I would never, ever ask you to die for me. Never in a million years would I ask that of you.” He pushed Sherlock’s fringe, now cut short, away from his forehead. 

Sherlock sighed and closed his eyes, “I know you wouldn't, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't.”

John kissed him softly, catching a small, barely audible whimper from Sherlock’s mouth. “Live for me. That's all I ask. Live for me. No matter the consequences, just live for me.” John whispered, lips still skimming Sherlock’s. “Please. Just… please.”

John breathes as Sherlock does, kisses him again, and waits. “Always. And only for you.”


End file.
